“Sometimes I wish the world could see the view from the window seat.” ~song lyrics, Saint Middleton

Recently, somewhere between winter and spring, I was on an airplane traveling from California to Utah. I don’t love flying, although I am sure if I were a bird I’d feel differently.

Can you imagine what it would be like to be a bird who can see way out beyond and all around you as you soar high in the sky? What a spectacular view and feeling of freedom it must be!

Still, there is something about being up in the sky in a large winged airplane that gives me clarity, especially from the view of the window seat.

Towards the tail end of our flight, we hit some turbulence. I closed my eyes and took in some deep breaths as the plane bumped around in the late afternoon sky. A little boy around 10 or 11 years old seated in a row near me shouted, “Daddy, look we’re in a cloud!”

I opened my eyes and looked out my window… For miles, the sky was filled with white and gray fluffy clouds making all sorts of delicate shapes. I wondered what it would be like to float in these soft, billowy pillows in the sky. It was difficult to see anything but the clouds, so I was left to my own imagination, visualizing what was out there beyond these cotton candy like elements. I felt enmeshed with the clouds, as if I were in a dream far away from reality.

Suddenly, we came out of the clouds and my view became more clear… Pockets of water and patterns of landscape filled my eyes. Pops of blue, hints of green, and patches of golden yellow were laid out below us like a masterpiece of mosaics.

An entire mountain range came into view, and everything became clear. I noticed the way the clouds hovered over the slanted canyon peaks, and how the sun lit up the snow capped mountaintops. The glorious sun shimmered across the mountains unveiling their silent majesty… Each peak bathed in a sacred glow.

This place was so familiar to me. I could spot cities and towns sprawled out below us. They seemed so small and insignificant at this moment, yet as a child these cities and towns were all that I knew.

Tiny roads with what seemed like toy cars traveling at a much slower speed than us and sandbox shaped neighborhoods filled with homes began to come into view. A vast tapestry of buildings outlined in whites, browns, grays, and reds sat like a mountain bowl of city life showcased in the center of it all.

As we approached our landing, my ears began to clear. We landed with a THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

I stepped off the plane as the cold breeze swept through my lungs and a keen wind jolted across my face. I immediately remembered that it was more difficult to breathe here. I’ve become accustomed to living in a lower elevation and breathing the fresh California air.

I walked through the newly renovated Salt Lake City airport and made my way outside to await my ride. I stood in the cold air, hesitating, yet letting myself feel the cold sensations on my skin. I knew it was part of being in this place… A place where I come to retreat and connect; a place where some of my most cherished people reside; a place that reminds me of the joy and innocence of childhood.

Soon my father came pulling around the corner with a gentle smile on his face. This was not the norm as usually it is my partner Dave who picks me up. In our four plus years of being together, and living in different states, airport affection has become quite the norm. After all, this is where we say our hello’s and goodbye’s.

However, this day’s circumstances were different. I hopped in the car and sat next to my dad. “Hi sweetheart, it’s good to see you.” It was good to see him too. I felt his warm presence come over my cold body like a comforting blanket. A feeling of home settled into my body.

As many young girls do, I always yearned for my father’s affection. Still, I had the utmost respect for my dad, although I was somewhat intimidated by his inner strength and hard work ethic. He was gone a lot of the time, working to provide for his family of seven. He was a school teacher, and he had a side lawn care business, both of which I have fond memories tagging along to help with. In hindsight, I’m not sure I actually helped much, but I got to be present with him, watching him do the things he enjoyed… Teaching young people and making yards look beautiful. To this day, when I breathe in the earthy scent of fresh cut grass, I think of my dad, and I feel grounded.

My father had a quiet way of serving others, behind the scenes. He didn’t seek the limelight, and I vividly remember seeing him extending kindness to random strangers and neighbors who might otherwise be overlooked or ignored. He gave much of his time, serving in his church and community. He prioritized taking care of his mother, my grandmother, for many years. As well, tending to his yard, horses, chickens and a beautiful garden my parents still have, to this day.

In more recent years, I’ve seen my dad slow down and soften… Sternness replaced by vulnerability. It’s ironic that just as our parents watch us change and grow, we too, as children, are witnessing how they change and grow through the years.

As I rode with my dad in the car, catching up on life, I felt embodied by a sense of endearing love. I looked out my window and took in the view from a different perspective. I was home.

For some time, things had been hard with my family. Yet, in this moment, my heart swelled with love and gratitude.

It was especially meaningful to feel close to my mom that night. I’ve always needed a lot of independence, both as a young person as an adult in the world. I think I’ve pushed my mom away at various times in my life. And yet, now I can more clearly see that it was my mom who was there… She was quietly present in our lives, day in and day out. It’s ironic that as we grow up and go through our own challenges raising children, we are able to see our parents with new eyes. Now that I am a mother raising three daughters of my own, I understand the paradox of the mother daughter relationship, which blends deep love and intimacy with periods of conflict and resentment.

On that night at dinner, I saw my mom as a woman using her voice to express what was in her heart. I loved seeing her in this light. I felt enveloped in her care, and I saw myself in her… A woman who loves her children deeply and would do anything to ensure their well-being.

The four of us shared food and talked about loss, love, and new beginnings. We reconciled misunderstandings and even processed some difficult and beautiful memories, of lives we once had. We talked about letting go and moving forward.

I felt seen and heard that evening. I think this is something every child longs to feel, no matter our age.

I’ve thought a lot about my upbringing. My parents walked the walk the best they could. They didn’t tell me how to live my life; rather, they showed me by example. And while they haven’t agreed with all my choices, they’ve given me space to find my own way. I’ve always viewed their partnership with much adoration. They love each other fondly and respect each other deeply, and I’m not sure I realized what a rare gift that is until more recent years.

As Dave and I drove home from dinner that night, we held hands and took in the whole of the evening. I felt his unwavering support. He is someone who shows up for the things that matter to me. I do not take this for granted.

The feelings of love, understanding, acceptance and gratitude remained in my heart in the days ahead.

Since the days following this trip, some rather tender feelings rose to the surface. Specifically with the loss of my dad’s brother, who recently passed away.

My uncle Jack Ashton was a good man. Despite his young boy’s dream to play professional baseball, he chose to listen to a deeper calling. Putting aside his dreams of money and perhaps fame, he honed in on his innate gift of music. In doing so, he truly made an impact on his community by empowering and inspiring people through music.

He became a renowned violinist who played in the Utah Symphony for nearly half a century and taught hundreds of students who all came to love and adore him. He expressed the beauty of life through an orchestra of lovely sounds.

As loss often does, his loss brought up many cherished memories, causing me to reflect on the influence people play in our lives. While I had not seen my uncle for a number of years, his influence in my life as a young person was profound. I am grateful to be one of the many people Jack Ashton loved and inspired. I have felt the afterglow of his life in my own life, as well as a closeness to the people from my past.

Like beautiful music, the echoes of their lives sing on in my soul.

Death has a way of bringing people together.

While I was not able to attend my uncle’s funeral in person, I was able to watch it online. Seeing some of my cousins and family members gave me a sense of joyful nostalgia. I’ve had more engagement with my family since his passing, which has been something that’s been fairly absent for the last several years.

Sometimes we need space to grow. Specifically, when the winds of change come upon us. During these times, relationships can be difficult to navigate; yet, they can also be a vehicle for growth, especially when we can look at them from a broader perspective.

I’ve taken a lot of time to deconstruct the family system and religious ideologies of my upbringing, as well as a 20 year marriage and the beliefs I held to be true about the world around me. It has been a long, difficult journey. Oftentimes I wonder if we choose our challenges, or if they choose us. Perhaps, it is both.

Throughout this journey, it’s felt important for me to find people in whom I can trust, even people who see the world very differently than I do.

I imagine it was hard for some of the people I care for to witness me as I was navigating these changes in my life, which were accompanied by a symphony of feelings and emotions, including sadness, hopelessness, anger, confusion, and especially, grief.

Yet, through it all, there has been tremendous growth… Restoring my sense of spirituality, giving my life new purpose and meaning, and allowing me to experience the gift of true connection.

I am thankful for those who stood beside me when I felt like all was lost; for those who forgave, and especially, for those who understood. I’ve come to appreciate the rare gift of a true friend and the joy of being in an equal partnership where two people walk side by side.

There are no words to describe the heartfelt appreciation I feel for all that’s been found through all that was lost. 

“In such a small time frame, You can be remade… You can live again.” ~song lyrics, Bon Iver

It is through the tools of yoga therapy and meditation that I’ve been able to heal and navigate the challenges of my life.

One of the most powerful tools I use in my life and facilitate in my work is a specific form of yoga Nidra meditation called iRest which allows it’s practitioners to cultivate mindfulness, reduce stress, and improve overall well-being.

iRest has empowered me with the tools to be able to take an honest look at myself and my life. This can be very uncomfortable at times; yet it is incredibly freeing. I’m learning to let go of what is out of my control and reframe the stories I’ve held to be true about myself and the world around me. I’ve been able to deconstruct old ways of living and discover new ways of being.

As I weave the tools of iRest in my day to day living, I am naturally more present in my home, my work, my relationships, and my life.

The practices of iRest can give us perspective, allowing us to realize that the emotions we feel, the thoughts we think, and the perceptions and beliefs we hold to be true about ourselves and the world around us are simply layers of our human experience; however, they are not the essence of who we are.

Just as my own view was clouded on the airplane that afternoon, we too are clouded by our emotions, thoughts, perceptions and beliefs. And because it is difficult to go beyond what the mind can comprehend and what the eyes can see, we lose sight of the truths and mysteries of life. And yet, truth is not something we discover in the mind. Truth is a felt experience that lands in the body.

In iRest, we peel back these layers, allowing us to experience a sense of wholeness and being that underlies all that we are… Our true and essential nature which is always in the background of our lives.

The tools and practices of iRest have helped me be more intentional in my life and establish a set of personal, core values connected to my heart. Some of these values which were instilled in me at a young age; others I choose because they feel important for me.

These core values and heartfelt desires can be likened to an internal compass… guiding us towards our dreams and the life we innately desire.

As we align our intentions and values with our choices and actions, we can feel content in who we are and in where we are going, even if we cannot see where life is taking us.

We can live with a sense of overall peace that blossoms from the heart of humanity.

My parents taught me how to go about life with a sense of purpose. They taught me to slow down, enjoy the simple pleasures of life, take care of the land, and help those in need. They taught me that life is not a race, but rather a walk… And we are all just walking each other home.

My wish for my children and our children is that they can create a better world than the one we have now. That they can remember their own true nature, live by their values, and stay open to other ways of being.

My hope is that if there is anything they choose to believe in, it is in the sacred power they hold within to create beauty wherever they land.

As they seek knowledge and wisdom, develop the gift and skill of intuition, use their imaginations, follow their hearts, trust in life, walk in truth, and find purpose and meaning in their individual journeys, they can discover their unrealized potential… Not in an effort to reach a destination; rather to find beauty and joy in the present moment and to inspire others to do the same.

It is our responsibility to help them discover that potential and give them the space and freedom to grow, in whatever ways they choose. And to accept and embrace them when they make brave and authentic choices to take different paths than the ones we’ve laid out for them.

In an effort to honor this life I have been given and the people from my past, I recently decided to restore the name I was given by my parents at birth. Inspired by a dear friend of mine whose journey has mirrored mine in many ways, I knew it was time for me to take this next step. Not to go backwards… Rather, to go forward.

Just recently, I received a court order in the mail, officially stating that my former name has been restored… Holly Ann Ashton.

And while it is just a name, it means something to me.

This serves as a symbol of restoring what’s been lost and celebrating what’s been found. A way for me to honor those who came before me and those who have gone on. To give gratitude for my ancestry, my heritage and my people. A step in letting go and reclaiming part of my identity.

While I am different now, I am also the same… Renewed and restored.

Life here on earth is cyclical. All living things are born, and then we die. Over and over again, like Nature itself, we are sojourning through the various cycles of life… Birth, growth, stability, decay and death.

I’ve been on Earth for nearly half a century. My life has consisted of many lives, and I hope to have many more… Many more days to learn and grow in the great mystery of life, which I am not sure can be explained by any of us.

As we walk together on this Earth, in various stages and unique seasons and on different paths living separate lives, may we remember that we are all interconnected. After all, we are the breath of the Earth and the pulse of the Universe.

May we embrace this season of spring as the Earth is being renewed and restored. May we remember that we could not have spring without winter, we cannot have joy without grief, and we cannot experience life without death.

Each of us has the potential to have an impact on the world while we are here. We have the power within ourselves to use our gifts and strengths to do good in the places we live. In a culture where it’s easy to talk the talk, may we do our best to walk the walk and live in truth…

This is the song of my heart this spring.

What is your deepest wish for this life you are living? What is the call, the song of your heart?

In loving memory of my uncle Jack, and in honor of those who have gone on, and those who are with me in the here and now…

iRest